Not Without My Future Husband
by Pixiestick-cc
Summary: Liz attends the 2012 Olympics and comes face to face with someone from her past she'd rather not. Will things end badly again in another textual message or can Liz look beyond the negatives to find the Russ to her Rebecca? Liz/Wesley
1. Chapter 1

There was a strong wind in the air and Liz had to make sure her dress didn't fly up again like it had earlier when that famous athlete had walked past. This being the 2012 Olympics it wasn't so weird to see a random Olympic superstars from the past walking nearby, but why oh why had Michael Phelps chosen the exact same moment as that gust of wind to make himself known. He just had to stop and pose for those nearby photographers and sadly their cameras were able to get a few snapshots of Michael smiling with a deranged Sally Field exposing her grandma panties in the background. At least that was the caption Brian Williams had attached to the link of her photo on TMZ when he'd sent it to her email.

Grumbling at the memory of Brian poking fun at her misfortune, Liz wondered why she was even wearing a dress. Dresses were for hippies and conservatives like the sister wives on _Big Love_. Those women didn't even believe in showing off their ankles. Well, at least the one who never wore make up thought that. Liz wasn't sure. It had been awhile since she'd marathoned the show while on a sugar high from eating too many pixie sticks. Regardless, Liz was a proud progressive, who would show off her ankles to any man that dared look, so this dress was just a big mistake. Of course, it all went back to a conversation Liz had with Jack minutes before she boarded the plane to London.

"Lemon, when you attend the opening ceremony, please try and dress in something other than your comfy sweats. It may be a sporting event, but remember you're not playing any of the sports."

As her bad luck would have it, all the outfits Liz had packed in her suitcase were athletic attire with multiple American flags bedazzled across the material so, after arriving late last night she'd gone to the first store that sold dresses. Now she was stuck with this ridiculous hippie dippy gown. Although, she couldn't forget the added bonus that was the layer of Spanx the dress came with. Really, it's what sold her on the outfit. She just couldn't pass up such an awesome creation as a dress that contained its own Spanx. Was there a Nobel Prize in fashion? If so then the designers of Spanx dress certainly should win one.

While the wind continued its attack against her, Liz had a difficult time hailing a taxi. How could she remove both hands from her dress long enough to signal she needed a ride when the wind threatened to reveal her unmentionables once more? "Nerds!" Liz shouted out at the invisible force causing her to remain steadfast and unable to hail a cab, "Why did I even come here to attend the Olympics?" She wondered to herself out loud.

Hadn't she vowed to say yes to life and staying in more? That had in fact become her life motto not so long ago and Liz had followed through with that resolution, but it was also made before her latest break up. After that, staying in without him by her side on the couch, watching _Top Chef_ as they ate greasy Chinese takeout just wasn't the same. No, it was downright depressing and so, in a moment of half a bottle of wine tipsy she had said yes. Yes to going out more and in fact much father away … all the way to London. With Jack's help she'd been able to secure 1 ticket to the 2012 London Summer Olympics and went on a trip across the Atlantic to find herself. Rooting for her homeland in the process was just an added bonus. Although, it was becoming more apparent to her as the first day of her vacation wore on that this trip was nothing more than her running away from her problems back home. Wisdom should have taught her by now that fleeing her troubles never solved anything. She was Liz Lemon. Trouble could find her anywhere and that's exactly what it had done today in the form of this god-awful wind.

As if to add insult to injury, at a moment when she was spiraling into frustrated basket case mode, a limo pulled up beside her. She had been waiting on the side of the street, next to a dumpster and was more than a little annoyed at the large vehicle that was now blocking the cabs from seeing her. Liz was downright livid, but still had enough sense to resist the urge to kick the tire of the limo. Considering it may have belonged to Michael Phelps, she didn't want another example of looking like an idiot in front of a big celebrity to go on her resume.

She was just about to admit defeat and head off back into the venue where the Opening ceremonies had been held, when some force other than wind knocked into her and caused Liz to fall to the ground. Naturally, the way she landed on the pavement caused her legs to splay and exposed her panties once more. Uttering one of her favorite euphemisms for what the F word meant, Liz rose to her feet ready to push the man that had run into her to the ground as well and maybe just pants him in the process. She wasn't going to be the only underwear flasher at the 2012 Olympics, not if it could be helped.

Yet, as she looked over her offender, who was now placing his cell phone into one of the pockets sewn into his expensive three piece suit, the swear word she'd been planning to hurl at him dissolved into a drool. This rude man, who had been so distracted by a phone call and was in such a hurry to reach his limo that he hadn't even noticed her, was by all accounts gorgeous. Still, she had to focus. Gorgeous did not excuse being a dick. "Excuse me, sir. You just knocked me on the ground. I hope you have an apology for that." She said, trying her best to sound condescending like she was talking to Tracy or Jenna and not Mr. Sexy.

"Why yes, of course. I am dreadfully, dreadfully sorry for that. Are you alright?" The man asked in a British accent that Liz wanted to spill on the floor and lick up.

She was stunned into silence by his icy blue eyes peering into her soul, discovering secrets from her childhood that were locked away there. He waited for a response that Liz wasn't sure she could compose and when he eventually reached out a hand to caress her shoulder, she nearly fell to the ground again, "Yes, um, fine. I think. A few bumps, bruises and I may have trouble walking." She stated awkwardly, her voice sounding like that of a child just learning to talk or maybe more accurately, Kenneth during one of his Donkey spells.

Liz wasn't lying about the walking either as her knees were growing weaker and weaker by the second.

"Well, let me offer you a ride then." The man said gesturing with his free hand, the one that wasn't cradling her shoulder, to the limo, "It's the least I can do after being such a clumsy oaf. Honestly, how was it even possible for me not to notice _you_?"

The way he said _you_ made Liz's heart do an unrehearsed samba and even though the upward pitch of his cadence on the word _you_ was probably meant as a way of asking her name, she didn't care. _You_ meant her and he was saying you as if he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed her, because he thought she was just as gorgeous as he was (Yes, this made absolute sense in her head).

"I'm Elizabeth Lemon, but most people call me Liz." She smiled goofily.

"Well, I'm not most people, but I'll refer to the name Liz since it is what I'm sure you're most comfortable with. Would you like to take a ride with me, Colin Firth and before you look at me with that peculiar stare I know you will, please know that no, I am not _that_ Colin Firth. Bloody man stole my name."

Liz brushed this off using her famous Julia Roberts laugh, briefly remembering another British man from her past that also had the same name of a celebrity. Although, the man standing in front of her now was far more dashing than the one from her memory. "No, I'm perfectly fine with your given name, Mr. Firth."

"Alright then, shall we?" Colin returned her smile with one of his own that showed off a set of perfectly white teeth that nearly blinded her.

Liz entered the limo first and made a seat for herself while admiring the accommodations. She noticed various bottles of alcohol inside a large container filled with ice and a television just beyond that near the closed privacy window separating Colin from his chauffeur. Playing on the TV was a sitcom she remembered seeing last night in her hotel room. _Chums_. At that moment the theme song was playing as the six friends with umbrellas in their hands danced around Big Ben. Liz snorted. What a dumb show.

As her new gentlemen friend followed her inside the vehicle, Liz scooted across the leather seat to make room for him. "I hope you don't mind if we make a stop first before I take you to your destination. Seems my half brother had a little accident with his foot cycle and needs someone to pick him up. That's actually who I was talking to before our little accident. My baby brother the tree huger doesn't believe in owning a car, so he's always riding around on that foolish device. " He said completely unaware of Liz's open mouthed surprise.

"I'm sorry, but did you just say foot cycle?" She squeaked.

Colin was busy pouring Liz some champagne and handed her a glass of the bubbly wine before replying, "Ah, yes, I meant to say bicycle, but my brother Wesley is always making up terms for stuff. Ludicrous, but he's family, so I simply put up with it."


	2. Chapter 2

Liz leaned over the sink of her hotel room bathroom and with cotton ball in hand, wiped away a large portion of the mascara covering her left eye. Staring down at the black glob that now covered the formerly white cotton, she wondered why she had chosen to wear so much makeup. Well, she knew why, but now hours after first applying the eye goop her reason didn't seem to sound well … sound. If Liz had to dress up for the opening ceremony then she might as well put on her face in hopes that she would run into Michael Phelps. Then he, with his large swimmer arms, would whisk her off to a better life. Yet, the only whisking that had been done was by the wind with her dress. Yes, Michael Phelps had been nearby and ultimately this meant fate had gotten two things right, but in the wrong context.

"Damn you, goddess in the sky!" Liz said as she raised an angry fist towards the bathroom ceiling.

She liked to imagine that Fate was a goddess version of herself dressed as Princess Leia with Astronaut Mike Dexter by her side. In her fantasy world Liz wielded a light saber to protect the castle they shared in the clouds. Feeling a tiny bit silly for scolding her make-believe alter ego, Liz lowered her fist and tried to focus on the removal of makeup once again. Fate was a tricky creature after all, always setting Liz up for failure. Seriously, why on earth did she want to reunite her with the walking disaster that was Wesley Snipes right when Liz was getting to know the very dashing (and as he related to her the also very single) Colin Firth? She involuntary shook her head causing the cotton ball near her eye to come in contact with the lens, "Blerg!" Liz exclaimed before walking out of the bathroom with a hand over her injured eye.

Figures … even the thought of Wesley caused damage. Wandering over to the hotel bed, she sat down and nursed her wound as the sound of the TV murmured in the background. Before entering the bathroom to get ready for bed, Liz had turned on the television and now even with her eyes closed she recognized the banter of two main characters from _Chums_. Russ and Rebecca, was it? They were the couple that was always breaking up and getting back together. She'd picked that much up from just the few episodes she'd scanned over last night.

"Doesn't the _BBC_ play anything other than this show?" Liz shouted at no one in particular or maybe just a little bit of that was meant to reach the ears of Princess Leia in the sky … everything bad that happened in her life was that bitches fault anyway.

Well, the _BBC_ also aired the sci fi show _Doctor Who_. That had come on after _Chums _finally ended the night before. Liz couldn't really find fault with a show about a doctor that traveled through time while wearing a bow tie, but for some reason the other show _did_ bother her. She wasn't sure if her dislike of the popular British sitcom was due to her own true feelings or the fact that she knew it was Wesley's favorite.

_We're like Russ and Rebecca on Chums_.

Ugh. Why did she even remember Wesley saying that to her during the wedding they attended together? A wedding, she might add, that led to a reception which ended particularly awkward for the both of them. That was probably their most uncomfortable moment together … until this evening happened. The looks on his face after he entered Colin's vehicle and saw her sitting inside: surprise, frustration, sadness, and then determination, reminded Liz of what one might go through during the stages of grief. On a personal level, it was also similar to what she went through each time her mouth reached the end of a fabulously delicious hot dog.

Although, now hot dogs only made her think of her ex Criss and it wasn't a delicacy she could enjoy anymore. Why did she have to fall in love with an organic hot dog street vendor? Now anytime she tried to take a bite of the processed meat her brain would instantly recall the cute way he imitated the sounds of her DVR. Liz could feel herself nearing the tipping point where throwing herself a pity party was the only recourse. No doubt, despite the promise of a date tomorrow night with Colin, she would spend the next few hours examining why her last relationship failed. Thankfully, a knock at the door pulled Liz away from her detrimental train of thought, but not so thankfully it also caused her to jump and consequently poke herself in the eye again.

"Really?" She grumbled, knowing for sure she'd have to wear a patch over her eye tomorrow to hide the swollen mess it most certainly would be.

Besides, who could it be this late in the evening? No one knew she was in this room … not even Colin. He was only aware that she was staying at this hotel, since he had been the one to drop her off. "Who is it?" Liz asked through the closed door.

"It's Wesley Snipes. I need to talk to you." A British accented voice came from the other side of the door.

"What the what?" Liz gaped, "Wesley, what are you doing here and how did you find my room number?"

"Can we please just talk about this after you've opened the door? I'm on my break and only have a bit of time. Besides, some elderly woman is giving me strange looks. I don't like it, Liz. She's making me uncomfortable. Oh, now she's hobbling my way. She knows I'm talking about her. Open up!" He said urgently.

"Good, I hope she comes and gives you a good whack with her cane." Liz responded with a snort.

"This isn't funny." He complained, but then seemed to compose himself, "But, more to the point it's the least you can do after how you initiated our break up."

She couldn't deny that he had the upper hand by mentioning _that_. Liz had been the one to chicken out and text him about the end of their short relationship. Guilt was the deciding factor, when she eventually swung the door open and said with a sour face, "Make it quick and just so you know I have pepper spray in my robe." (She actually did not).

Wesley quickly entered the room and she closed the door behind him. After turning round to face him, he let out a gasp, "I believe you about the pepper spray. From the looks of it you've already had some fun with it on your eye."

Liz rolled her one good eye, "1 minute before I throw you out."

Wesley grimaced, "Now is that any way to talk to your former _Future Husband_?" He followed the term Future Husband with air quotation marks.

"50 seconds. Tick, tick, tick." She warned, pointing to the imaginary watch on her wrist.

He raised his hands in clear surrender, "Alright, I'll stick to business."

"5 words or less for why you felt the need to seek me out at this hour." She replied, leaning her back against the closed door.

Wesley lowered one hand, but kept the other raised and curled it into a fist. Then he counted off each word on his fingers, "You shouldn't date Colin. Ha, I only used four words"

"Yes, but you completely ruined it by adding that you had only used 4 words. Don't you see?" This was the Wesley she remembered, always saying the wrong thing.

He gave her a lopsided grin and Liz frowned in disapproval, "Is there a reason I shouldn't date your brother or is this just some childhood rivalry between you two?" She drenched her words with sarcasm.

"I know you are being facetious right now, but that is exactly it, Liz." Wesley nodded enthusiastically, "He's always been one upping me as long as I can remember. Didn't you see how his eyes lit up when he realized you were _the_ Liz Lemon … _my_ Liz Lemon. To him you are no more than my action figure of The Doctor from _Doctor Who_ that he nicked from me when I was 10."

Liz scoffed at his assertion that she was _his_ Liz Lemon, "First off I'm no one's Liz Lemon, especially not yours and secondly … he watches _Doctor Who_?"

Wesley sent Liz a frustrated look, "As do I and every other breathing human that resides here in Great Britain. It's a really famous show, but that's not the point. You need to focus and take my words to heart. He doesn't want you. He's just trying to take the girl that broke my heart and prove to me that he can have you."

She didn't like the way the conversation was going. Broke his heart? They barely knew each other before their break up. Yes, she would admit to being less than diplomatic when ending their relationship, but there was no way Liz would take the blame for breaking his heart. Feeling this discussion needed to be tackled head on, she walked past Wesley intent on turning off her television, so that the annoying voice of Russ whining over Rebecca would stop giving her a headache. Her company followed suite and then when he saw the television, Liz could hear the smile in his voice as he nearly squealed, "Oh, you're watching _Chums_?"

"Not anymore." She replied and hit the switch on the remote to silence the TV.

"Awww, but that was a good one. Russ was about to claim it was alright for him to be with another woman, because Rebecca and him were on a sabbatical." Wesley gushed.

Liz ignored him and instead tried to focus on Wesley's confession of a broken heart. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, but also come across as polite as possible. "Look, I'm not trying to be mean when I say this, Wesley, but I did not break your heart. We were barely together for more than a few hours and we only knew each other, because we'd both been drugged at the dentist's office. That is not a relationship and it's certainly not grounds for you to have a broken heart."

As Wesley's face fell into a look of sadness, Liz inwardly groaned.

"Of course, you would say that, because this was always a one-sided relationship." He replied, "I may have been settling with you, but it was a magnificent settle for me. You were the only woman I've ever wanted to settle with, Elizabeth."

His words came out sounding odd, which wasn't unusual for Wesley, but they also were heartfelt and as he cleared the lump out of his throat, Liz wanted to respond with something that might comfort him. Yet, she'd never been one that knew how to handle people when they expressed their emotions. All she could think of was to offer something she knew would cheer him up. "Hey, let's see if _Chums_ is still on." She said, tying to infuse the air with the positive energy only TV could promise.

Wesley shook his head, "I've got to get back to work. I'm sure my break is almost over." He forced a smile, "But, it would behoove you to remember what I said about Colin, Liz. Also it might be good for you to know that he's very racist and I've seen him punch a little blind kitten before."

Then quickly he exited the room, leaving Liz to wonder about their whole exchanged.

"Great, now I'm going to be up all night thinking about this." Liz grumbled to her goddess in the sky.

Fate had screwed her over yet again.


	3. Chapter 3

Liz checked herself in the bathroom mirror one last time before heading out. She'd managed to apply foundation liberally around her puffy right eye in just a way that it lessened the severe quality of the damage done the night before. It was something learned while watching the make up artists at _TGS_ transform Jenna into a zombie for a sketch. Liz still didn't look perfect (and maybe resembled a Walker from _The_ _Walking Dead _a bit), but it would have to do. If she tried to improve herself anymore then her plans for a night out with Colin might begin without her. Liz imitated the kissy face she'd seen every teen on UFace make in their profile picture and she watched as her reflection transformed into herself as Princess Leia, who disproved with a thumbs down.

"Yeah, too old for the duck face." Liz agreed, exiting the bathroom and reaching for her purse (not the bedazzled one) before leaving the hotel room.

After a long conversation on the phone with Jack that morning, Liz had decided she would take her mentor's advice and go on a date with Colin Firth. So what if all the odds were stacking up against her. If Liz had let Wesley Snipes influence her decision making 2 years ago then there was no question that she'd be stuck in a loveless marriage to him at that very moment filled with his awkward kisses (seriously, why was his face like that?). Instead she was on her way to a date with his handsome affluent brother. It was hardly a choice at all. Either listen to the weirdo who rode a foot cycle or date the man who owned a limo and shared a name with Colin Firth. She'd go with the handsome man every time, besides this was the direction Jack had pointed her in and she knew it was the right way. Liz was determined to push forward past the odds and eventually beat them.

"Yay me." She encouraged herself with an enthusiastic whisper as she walked down the hallway, the tune _Walking on Sunshine_ (track 12 on the soundtrack of her life) humming in her head.

Once she neared the elevator, Liz saw its doors beginning to close and she called out for the person inside to hold them for her. As the woman looked up, Liz could see that she was elderly and wore a threatening scowl on her face. Despite her obvious disgruntled disposition she helped Liz by placing out her cane, so that it met the two closing doors and caused them to pop open again.

"Thank you." Liz said breathlessly as she entered the elevator and took her place next to the woman.

She quickly chose the elevator button for the lobby and then politely smiled at her _mature_ companion who in turn replied to Liz's courteous gesture with a question, "Are you off to meet your boyfriend?"

"Excuse me?" Liz asked, not sure if she'd heard the woman correctly.

"Don't be coy. I'm referring to the gentleman I saw at your door last night. I mean why else would you be all gussied up? That is … unless you are a tart leaving to meet another man ... bring him to your room just like the other?" She replied, her voice coming out sounding accusatory and yet simultaneously grandmotherly genteel, a feat Liz wasn't quite sure how the woman accomplished.

"What? No. That was just a friend. Wesley, he came by for a short visit. We used to know each other in New York. We're good friend. Best friends even." Liz said, her nearly true words rushing into one another in something reminiscent of one long absurd giggle.

She was completely taken by surprise and guessed this old lady must have been the same woman Wesley was afraid of when he'd come into her room last night. It suddenly became clear to her that his feelings of danger were probably very justifiable.

"Well, it's certainly none of my business who you share your bed with, but this Wesley gentleman, from what I know, I don't like him."

The woman spoke with such an air of disgust that Liz nearly expected to see a wad of spit hit the floor. Thankfully that didn't happen. Yet, despite her better judgment to remain quiet while the elevator made its way down to the lobby, Liz couldn't contain her curiosity as to why this person disliked Wesley, so she asked, "What do you know about Wesley to not like him?"

Liz could think of a dozen reasons why someone might not like her ex, but she wanted to find out how this random person was connected to Wesley enough to despise him. The elderly lady looked up at Liz with narrowed eyes and replied, "Well, anyone who pines over someone like you is not trust worthy obviously, you like to sleep around."

Liz shook her head, "What? I am not … I don't do that, but what do you … he pines for me? What does that even mean?"

Her companion let out a sigh that ended with an irritated grunt, "I was trying to give this back to him last night, but he ran away from these old legs. He dropped it in the elevator we shared. Took it out of his pocket to stare at and when he tried to put it back I saw the thing fall to the floor."

With curious eyes, Liz watched as the woman pulled something that looked similar to a piece of paper from her purse. She handed it to Liz, but not before saying, "If he knew any better he would stay away from you. Such a fool."

"Um, thanks?" Liz wasn't sure how to respond.

Her words were ignored as the elevator doors opened on the floor the woman had chosen and she exited without a word. A man stood waiting for her on the other side and grandma crazy greeted him with a deep kiss. Liz couldn't help, but wonder who exactly the tart was here. _Gross_.

When the doors closed once more, Liz took a moment to sigh deeply before turning her attention to the item the old lady had given her. It wasn't actually a paper at all, but a folded photo of her and Wesley at Cerie's wedding. She thought back to that day 2 years ago and did remember the two of them posing for some pictures at the urging of the wedding photographer, but as to how Wesley got a hold of this photo well, that was the troubling part. He would have had to contact Cerie in order to obtain a copy and that would have been after Liz had dumped him. It seemed a little extreme and something someone with a broken heart might do. Liz groaned as she remembered Welsely's words about how she'd hurt him. This situation was getting far more complicated and fate was again trying to stack the odds up against her.

"No." Liz said loudly inside the elevator.

She wouldn't let this bother her. Her mission tonight was to meet Colin, have a nice dinner and completely ignore the red flags that kept being raised by her goddess in the sky. It was with this resolve that Liz went to fold the photo and place it in her purse … out of sight out of mind. However, as she did this the handwriting in pen on the back of the image caught her eye.

_The one that got away._

"Okay, I'll ask Colin for his brother's phone number, so I can get this all figured out between us. Happy?" Liz asked, turning her scowl towards the mirror ceiling inside the elevator, which made for an interesting standoff between Liz and her reflection.

She happened to do this just as the elevator doors opened, revealing a small group of people waiting to board. Liz demurely lowered her fist and averted their raised eyebrows as she made her way past them.

Her trip to the restaurant didn't take much time at all, since Colin had texted her and insisted they meet at the place adjacent to the hotel she was staying at. This didn't bother Liz in the least. The less she had to walk in heels the better. She managed to reach the eatery without incident and after entering through its large glass doors she saw Colin waiting near the host's booth.

"Liz." He greeted her with a warm kiss to her hand, "How are you?"

"Good." She replied, not letting on to the tilt-a-whirl of emotions his brother had caused inside her.

"That's lovely to hear. I've selected a table for us in the VIP section. I think you will enjoy the privacy. I know I will." His charming British accent filled her ears and danced around inside her brain for a bit. "Shall we?"

"We shalls." Liz replied, his charm causing her to muddle the English language.

Colin softly laughed and took Liz's hand, leading her to a section that was VIP in every sense of the Acronym. It reminded her of a place Jack might take one of his dates or in the more interesting part of Liz's imagination where Jay Z would bring Beyonce. When Colin pulled out a chair at their table for her to sit, Liz closed her eyes briefly and pretended she was the hip-hop goddess and Colin was her Multi-millionaire rap artist husband. She enjoyed this image for a moment, but then feeling silly at letting her mind wander into such a ridiculous fantasy, Liz opened her eyes again expecting to see Colin smiling back from across the table. Only it was the back of his head that greeted her. He was turned about in his own chair and beckoning someone to come near. It was a man and as he approached Liz could see that he wore the waiters' attire of this certain restaurant, but then as he grew closer there was something else she noticed. She knew this server and without thinking Liz muttered, "I've got 99 problems and this is one of them."

Colin turned around to face her, "Is everything alright? I thought it might be nice to have a familiar face bring us our dinner this evening. I know Wesley will be excited to see you again."


	4. Chapter 4

On the long list of bad dates Liz had endured over the years, her one with Colin Firth wouldn't go down as the worst. It wouldn't even crack the top 10 and oddly enough wouldn't be the first to contain blood. That honor went to the cringe worthy memory of her junior prom when she thought acting out _Carrie's _iconic scene for her date would improve her chances with him (it did not). Only with Colin the blood hadn't been part of a movie reenactment or dyed red corn syrup stolen from the school's drama department. Instead it was the result of Wesley standing up for her, an act that had completely surprised and pleased her all at once. Wesley Snipes may have been a spineless jellyfish when his brother's insults were aimed at him, but once Colin decided to send some rude comments Liz's way, her former future husband had taken action immediately. As a result a short fight ensued and by short Liz meant Wesley was hit once and then fell to the ground.

After stealing a fancy napkin as her, Wesley, and Colin were booted from the restaurant, Liz immediately began holding it against Wesley's injury. She continued to do this even after they entered a taxi together and as their trip to the emergency room wore on Liz thought the wound was under control. Now though the red liquid was beginning to drip past the napkin and down his face again. Pushing down harder with her fingers against the cloth, she applied more pressure hoping it would keep Wesley's blood from staining the interior of the cab they shared.

"Ow! Not so hard." Wesley protested with a whimper.

"Sorry," Liz grimaced, "but I don't want your blood spilling inside this taxi. He keeps looking back at us suspiciously." She jerked her head a few times trying to indicate the cabbie.

"Are you having a seizure? I can't really tell, because you're blocking half my vision." Wesley deadpanned.

Liz rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the chuckle that followed. Okay, she admitted to herself, he could be funny, even if his joke was made at her expense. "Shut up or I'll cancel our date to the emergency room." She threatened with a smirk.

"Ah well, I promise you it would probably be the better of your two dates tonight, so if you were planning on recouping any of your time lost on my imbecile brother then I'd advice you to stay with me. I've got so many magical things planned for us inside the ER. Here's a preview, it involves you watching me get stitches." Wesley quipped, using a tone that made watching skin being sewed together seem more appealing than it really was.

Liz decided to play along and dropped her mouth open in feigned disbelief, "What are you talking about? My first date may have been an overly awkward situation where your brother spent all his time trying to put you down, while simultaneously placing his disgusting hands on me, but it ended in such a spectacular show of heroism from you and violence from him. It was almost like watching an action/romance and the only thing that could have made it any better is if Chris Hemsworth charged into the fight as Thor and pummeled Colin with his hammer. Then it would have been an action, romance, superhero movie. Besides … I got a consolation prize that I think you might like."

"Unless it's a check to pay my hospital bill, I doubt I'd enjoy it." Wesley grumbled.

She shook her head, "I'm sure you can sue your brother in small claims court for that, since he is the reason we are on our way to the hospital. No, the consolation prize I'm referring to has 20 years of history between you and your brother."

Wesley's mouth dropped opened just as Liz's had before, but unlike hers, his dropped jaw was the product of genuine shock, "You didn't?" He said in a voice that was a mixture of astonishment and admiration.

"I diiiid." Liz replied using a sing-songy inflection as she reached inside her purse, retrieved a tiny action figure and placed it in Wesley's palm.

His hands instantly cradled the toy that had seen better days and he brought it up, so his uncovered eye could see it more clearly, "Oh, Doctor!" Wesley exclaimed overcome with emotion at seeing the long lost toy his brother snitched from him as a child and then audaciously placed on the restaurant table as a means of mocking Wesley.

Thankfully Liz had mind enough about her to swipe it along with the napkin and was able to return the action figure back to its rightful owner. Although, she noticed that Wesley was becoming a bit too emotional over the whole thing to the point that Liz was afraid he might cry. That situation would quickly become uncomfortable if it was to occur and never one to be at ease with a grown man in tears, Liz quickly changed the subject in a very direct way. She kissed Wesley's cheek.

His bubbling over of joy ceased once her lips met his skin and when she edged away, Liz caught Wesley's eye looking over her warily. It was almost like he was trying to gauge if her kiss had actually occurred. "I see your face has improved when it comes to kissing." He finally said, brushing off the tension with another joke … at her expense.

Liz pursed her lips and replied, "Wait a minute. You're the one with the face that can't kiss. Not me."

"Yes, or so you've told yourself late at night as a form of comfort." Wesley said, trying to convey arrogance, but failing when he stumbled into a chuckle.

Liz found herself laughing along with him and when their humor slowly died down she decided to explain to him why he was so deserving of a kiss from her, "_That_ kiss was a thank you for standing up for me in the restaurant."

Wesley made a noise that sounded like a protest (or a muffled sneeze, she wasn't quite sure), but Liz brushed it aside, "No, really when your brother started in on my looks, because I told him I wouldn't be part in his scheme to hurt you and then you came up and told him to back off … that was nice. If anything I'd say you are actually more like the real Colin Firth than your brother is."

"Wouldn't that make me more like the actor Wesley Snipes though, getting into brawls with vampires, since you know I did scuffle with Colin? Actually, that was my first real fist fight with my brother. All these years and it took a woman to bring that about. Huh … I guess that _does_ make me Colin Firth and him Hugh Grant and oh … you would be Renee Zellweger. Shame I didn't throw him through a glass window like in _Bridget Jones's_ that would have been marvelous."

Wesley's voice was becoming more and more eager as he went on to the point that Liz thought he might actually start singing _It's Raining Men_ which had been the song playing during Colin and Hugh's fight scene. She knew this, because well, a fight scene over a woman between two handsome British men … she may or may not have ruined her VHS copy of _Bridget Jones's Diary_ by playing that certain part of the movie and then rewinding it back just to watch again multiple times. All of this though was irrelevant in the face of the more important issue which was Wesley mentioning _that_ scene in one of her all time favorite movies. He'd seen _Bridget Jones's Diary_ and not only that, he knew details about it. That was certainly impressive in Liz's eyes. Still she couldn't help her knee jerk reaction to push someone away by adding cynicism to a pleasant situation. Instead of delving deeper into Wesley's knowledge of the movie, she did a very Liz Lemon thing and dryly stated, "I think you've become delirious from that knock Colin gave you, because there was very little fighting, just you hitting the floor from his fist."

Wesley didn't seem too pleased with her remark and frowned, "Can't you afford me a bit of escapism right now and not remind me of how bruised my ego is or the fact that I'm positive I no longer have a job. You know I'm quite certain shouting at a customer to 'shut your bloody mouth' is against the rules. Can you please simply tell me again how Colin Firthy the actor I am?"

Yes, his job … the unfortunate job that he had to take after his residency issue in America brought him back to England. A University educated man reduced to employment as a waiter. His brother had made sport of it all that evening, to the point of nausea for Liz. She was in fact supposed to be his rescue in the residency issue, but then had ended their engagement. Guilt was beginning to rear its ugly head again inside Liz and to counteract it she decided to push away her fears of letting Wesley get to close and said, "You forgot to mention your best Colin Firthy moment of the night."

"And what was that?" Wesley asked.

"When you told Colin that I was the best woman you've ever met and then said you would defend my honor no matter what. That was very _Pride and Prejudice_ Colin Firth, which is by far my favorite Colin Firth."

Wesley held her gaze for a long moment as he took in her words and then mouthed, _Thanks_. Liz nodded her head in response just as the cab came to a stop. They had finally arrived at the emergency room. Quickly she paid their fee, helped Wesley out of the cab and then they made their way into the hospital. While Wesley went to check in, Liz found a seat for herself in an uncomfortable plastic chair among rows of other uncomfortable plastic chairs inside the waiting room. She tried not focus on all the sick people surrounding her and fought the urge to pull some Purell out to disinfect everything in her nearby vicinity.

She desperately needed a distraction from her germaphobe tendencies and especially from the woman eying her that looked like she was here to apply for a position in the zombie apocalypse. Searching for that distraction, her eyes fell upon a tiny TV bolted to one of the top corners of the four walls enclosing the room. She snorted at the sight of yet again Russ and Rebecca from _Chums _having a row about something on the television. At least Wesley would be able to watch one of his favorite shows while he waited for his stitches, she thought.

The storyline was much the same as she'd already seen take place between these two … another fight that would no doubt lead to some steamy off screen make up sex. Why did this show display the ridiculous notion that people who fought all the time also repeatedly had steamy sex together? After a fight with a boyfriend all Liz every wanted to do was eat a ham sandwich. She had to admit though, that regardless of its idiotic premise _Chums_ wasn't all that bad. Eventually, Liz was even starting to be pulled into the storyline of Rebecca following Russ to America in order to stop him from marrying a Yank.

"Ahh … I love this episode!"

Stunned to hear a sudden voice next to her, Liz turned her head to see Wesley sit down. "Well, don't ruin it for me. I haven't seen this one yet." She said.

"Ah, I see _Chums_ has converted yet another naysayer." He replied, the excitement in his voice annoying Liz just a little bit.

She wanted to roll her eyes, but stopped short when she saw a trail of blood beginning to trickle its way down Wesley's cheek. "You are hopeless when it comes to keeping your blood inside your body." Liz clucked her tongue disapprovingly.

Reaching up, she took the napkin Wesley was holding against his eyebrow and gestured for him to lie his body down across the row of seats next to her. He stared back with a look of confusion over his face, "It will keep me from having to hold my hand up." She explained.

"Okay." Wesley agreed.

He laid his head against her lap, while his body rested as well as was possible against the hard plastic underneath it. Liz continued the job she had started inside the restaurant of keeping Wesley from bleeding when suddenly the absurdity of what was happening hit her, "Well, I certainly didn't expect my evening to end with a man's head in my lap … nope, that did not sound as dirty when I said it in my head."

Wesley quietly laughed, "Oh, you have to be honest that despite everything, this date is going swimmingly compared to all of our others."

Liz thought about that. All of their past encounters had ended in disaster, so what made this one any different, because in essence it should have been just another disaster? She thought of the picture inside her purse and how she had loathed Wesley when it had been taken. Her view of him hadn't changed much since then and even when the old lady inside the elevator had given the photo to her, she was still fighting with fate to keep Wesley out of her life. So much about what she had thought true about him was proving to be false and despite the dreary circumstances they now found themselves in, she had to admit that Liz Lemon was actually enjoying her time with Wesley Snipes … either that or they were an alternate universe. Liz was more inclined to believe that latter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **I should finish this up in the next chapter. If you're reading this please feel free to give me some feedback. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't hard writing this not knowing what others thought.

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><p>"Uh oh, it looks like we drank all the wine."<p>

That was the last sentence Liz remembered before her black out. Well, it wasn't exactly a black out per say. She did recall some things happening after asking Wesley that particular question, but they were _happenings_ that she'd rather forget about. The images of body parts joining in an almost Lady Gaga video-like manner overwhelmed her.

Why oh why had she asked him to come up to her room? Why had they ordered wine from room service and why had she done those things with Wesley in her hotel bed? Much like a Lady Gaga video it was all fast paced with contrasting images that had little to do with each other. She was almost certain that the flaming metal bra hadn't actually been something she'd worn and it caused Liz to wonder if the events she remembered taking place had actually occurred. Maybe they were simply a dream … a really graphic dream.

Liz fought the urge to groan. She didn't want to wake the softly snoring Wesley next to her. One quick peak under the covers revealed to her that yep, even with her eyesight sans glasses she could still identify a naked man. Pulling the comforter down from over her head, Liz focused on the night stand that was directly to the left of her blurry vision. She tried to focus on it, because her dream told her that before she'd gotten under the sheets with Wesley her glasses had come off and been placed there. Reaching out she grasped the familiar feel of her everyday staple since she was four and placed them on. Unfortunately the first thing Liz's eyes fell upon was Wesley's _Doctor Who_ action figure staring her down on the night stand.

"Dear God, what did you see last night?" She whispered, flicking it to the floor where he could no longer judge with his plastic eyes.

At the sound of her voice, Wesley stirred and Liz instinctively placed a hand over her mouth. She had to compose herself despite the situation. Another slip of the tongue like that could possibly wake him. If that happened then she would most definitely have to be an adult about this and actually deal with her insane decision to have a one night stand with Wesley Snipes. As it was, she wasn't even sure how to manage a slip out of the room where he wouldn't see her. Was it even possible to do that, since yes, she too was naked under the sheets? Could she dress, pack and do the walk of shame out of the hotel without waking Wesley and maybe even steal a piece of the leftover pizza the two had ordered along with the wine?

"Liz, stop it. You'll poke your eye out."

She froze.

"I want crumpets with my tea."

Slowly turning her head, she saw that Wesley was still asleep and merely talking from the dream world he was in … apparently one that involved Liz nearly poking her eye out. If they were anything like her dreams, Liz shuddered to think what exactly it was she might poke her eye out with. Wesley spouted out a few more nonsensical sentences that had little in relation to the previous, before he quieted down again with a snort. Seizing the opportunity, Liz slithered out of bed and in her birthday suit she crawled across the floor and over to her purse which was hanging from the closet door knob. She clutched it against her chest and then continued to slink on the ground until she found her way into the bathroom. It all played out like a very awkward scene from a James Bond movie, probably the lame Timothy Dalton one that no one liked.

Softly closing the door behind her, Liz reached down into the purse and pulled out her phone. She may not have the opportunity to escape from this grade A mistake, but there was still someone she could turn to for help. Like her glasses this person was a staple in her life and she had used him plenty of times when playing her 'Help me the eff out of this jam' card.

She was just about to hit send on the phone which would lead her to a much too early phone call with Jack (it wasn't the first time he'd been disturbed at such an early hour by her or probably the last) when her eyes caught sight of a photo, folded over inside her purse. It was the one Wesley had dropped inside the elevator. She'd placed the image in her bag after showing it to Wesley during one of their quieter moments inside the ER. While his head lay against her lap as she nursed his wound, Liz had debated through the evening whether or not to bring the photo out. She didn't want to ruin the peaceful vibe by bringing up something that might make them both uncomfortable, but eventually curiosity got the better of her.

Wesley looked surprised at first and mumbled something under his breath about the old hag in the elevator, but then gave Liz what she wanted: an explanation. Slowly, through the haze of her wine hangover, she remembered that his reason for having the photo was actually why she'd invited him up to her room. As Liz played the memory over in her head, she no longer felt the urgent need to call Jack. Instead she found herself placing her phone back and in its place pulling out the photo.

"I downloaded it from Cerie's UFace page a few weeks after you dumped me."

Liz had cringed at his mention of this, but she encouraged Wesley to continue.

"I was back in London, searching for a meaning to life and for some reason your face kept coming back to me … like fate."

"Yes, you said before … the universe is pulling us together, telling us to settle for each other." Liz remembered out loud, not sure if he detected the hint of sarcasm she tried but failed to keep from flowing over her impression of him.

Wesley sat up and taking control of the napkin from Liz he said, "No, it was more than that. Fate was telling me quite bluntly that I had made an ass of myself. You see, all of our awkward encounters before, they were strained, because of me. Doesn't it strike you as odd that we connected inside that dentist's office when we first met and yet, were incapable of recreating that chemistry afterward?"

"Well, we both were drugged out of our minds." Liz blurted.

Wesley looked like he considered this for a minute, but then countered, "True, except there is something you should know about me, Liz. I am an extremely self conscious man to the point that I will sabotage a good thing purely to save face. If I can destroy something before it has chance to destroy me then I will. It's a learned trait that goes back to having Colin as a brother. But, at the dentist's, anesthesia removed my flaw and instead of pushing away, I found something I liked and pulled it in. I liked you Liz and truth be told I never stopped liking you. Sadly, I had a horrible way of showing it. I wanted to stop you from inevitably hurting me, so I messed things up. I thought by the time you'd agreed to be my fiancé that maybe I hadn't ruined things with my ridiculous sabotage, but of course you found someone better … how is Carol by the way? I assume you are no longer together since you were courting my brother. "

Liz deflected his question, "Ah, don't trust fate, from my experience she's a bitch that lives in the clouds who doesn't care about anyone, but herself."

"What?" Wesley sent her a look of confusion, but then shook it off with a laugh, "I see you have your own way of seeing things, but I don't mind. I find your over active imagination quite Bridget Jones-esque."

Liz half smiled at the compliment. Turning her eyes downward in embarrassment, she fixated on her shoes, those heels she'd worn to impress Colin. What a waste. She kicked them off, no longer caring what those around her, including Wesley, might think about the feta cheese smell that sometimes wafted from her feet.

"So, you like me?" She grinned, looking back up at him.

"Just as you are." Wesley replied, quoting Colin Firth's famous line to Renee Zellweger from _Bridget Jones's Diary_, "Stinky feet and all." He adlibbed.

Liz laughed and wasn't at all bothered by the fact he'd decided to tweak the words to make them more suitable for her. All this mention of _Bridge Jones's_ was making her want to watch it again. Then suddenly an idea struck, "Maybe we can find _Bridget Jones's Diary_ on the pay per view my hotel offers. We could watch it … you know unless you die from your wound and then I'd have to make funeral arrangements. God, that would be so annoying."

"You're not going to order popcorn if I agree to watch this movie with you?" Wesley grumbled in a way that let Liz know he was only teasing.

"No, for your bravery tonight in defending my honor we can order some gross-out Scottish wine that I know you love so much." She replied with a smirk.

Wesley followed this with an animated "Yes!" complete with fist pump.

Ironically his overly enthusiastic hand motion didn't annoy her. Dare Liz admit she even considered it cute? It was that line of thinking, which over the course of a night brought her to the situation she now found herself … naked inside her hotel bathroom dreading an eventual face to face with Wesley. She knew it had to be done. Liz couldn't just abandon him after all the emotional vomiting he'd done to her last night. She was afraid, but at the same time she couldn't lean on Jack or anyone else to figure out her problems for her. Wesley came into their new relationship full of honestly about his flaws. She could do this too.

"Oh brother … time to grow up." She whined to herself while reaching for the handle that would open the bathroom door.

As soon as she swung the door on its hinges, Liz was shocked to see a naked Wesley standing there on the other side with his hand poised to knock. She let out a shriek that he matched in intensity and pitch. Without thinking her hand pushed the door closed again. Then sitting down on the toilet lid, Liz waited for her hyperventilating to stop.

"Sorry." She heard Wesley say through the door. "Would it help if maybe both of us put on some clothes? I'm sure neither of us is in our best light right now … well, that is not to say your body isn't quite adequate, considering last night well, it was dark then not light, but I can't say I was disappointed …"

"Oh, just go get me something to wear out of my suitcase." Liz interrupted him, trying to shut Wesley up before he could add any more details to their weird dream sex already seared into her brain.

"Right." He replied and then left.

After a while he returned and knocked on the door. Liz stood up and cracked the barrier between them open to stick her hand out. Then grasping a handful of material, she pulled her clothing inside. Liz couldn't help the smile that spread across her face when she saw her bedazzled American flag sweat shirt and pants that Jack had convinced her not to wear. Well, at least Wesley had good tastes. She quickly dressed and placing a hand against her chest to try and still her racing heart, Liz said a little prayer to her fate goddess in the sky.

_You got me into this mess, so please help me out of it. Also I'm sorry for calling you a bitch to Wesley. Thanks, k bye._

She already decided she would be upfront with Wesley, but couldn't help herself when she stepped out of the bathroom and became tongue tied, "So me you sex. Arrg. …"

Wesley was clearly in the same awkward spot as her and had the face of someone who didn't know if they wanted to cry or puke, but when Liz came out sounding like a caveman it broke the ice so to speak. His sour look melted away into a smile which settled into a laugh. "Shall I go fetch a Saber-toothed tiger to roast over our open fire pit?" He joked.

This brought about the same air of comfort the two had shared the evening before and Liz felt herself falling into it again. Why did she feel so relaxed around Wesley Snipes when everything about this situation should have made her want to run away from it? Maybe for once she was actually handling something straight forward with no help from anyone or sneaking away with only a text left behind. It was a weird, but also good feeling.

Wesley was looking more comfortable and less constipated like he had when she first exited the bathroom, "I think we need to talk." He stated.

Liz nodded in agreement, "Okay, I'll start the conversation with an easy question. Can you answer something that's just bothering me?"

"I'll try." Wesley smiled, hopeful.

"Did I really wear a flaming bra last night?"


	6. Chapter 6

"And Iiii eee Iiii will always love youuuuuu …" Liz's voice wasn't quite comparable with Whitney Houston's (in fact she had more in common with Bjork when it came to vocal quality), but at that moment in front of the bathroom mirror she did her best impression of the late songstress.

After a long day spent watching Olympic events followed by a closing ceremony where she had to fight to keep her eyes from closing on the spectacular display of fireworks, Liz only wanted to fall into bed and sleep. With her being Liz Lemon though, she of course had to make everything difficult. It was her last night in London, and therefore her last night with Wesley. Since their future as a thing, couple, lovahs, whatever … wasn't so foreseeable, she was spending it with him. They'd spent two weeks together since that fateful night when _things_ had happened in her hotel bed. Mostly he had accompanied her to Olympic events seeing as he was now unemployed and had a free schedule. During those times nothing beyond hand holding had taken place, but there may have been some slight drooling on his shoulder by her during the closing ceremony and for Liz that was far more personal than sex.

They really hadn't discussed the two of them as anything significant and she'd only gotten the cliff note's version of what had gone on sexually between them. Apparently _Bridget Jones's Diary_ was unavailable on pay per view and instead they had settled on watching Lady Gaga's _Monster's Ball_ HBO special. Then alcohol had come into the picture. That's when drunken Liz had meshed Lady Gaga and sex with Wesley into one thing. She was determined not to have anything like that happen again. If by chance they did go all the way tonight she'd have only the image of Whitney Houston's _The Bodyguard_ going through her brain. She didn't remember if the movie had a happy ending, but she was sure there had to have been a love scene (the word _body_ was in the title after all). Either way, Liz continued to belt out songs from Whitney Houston's best selling album while preparing for whatever the night might hold for someone who used to be known as _Super Virgin_.

"I'm every woman … it's all in meeeee …"

Liz had caught her second wind and was gracelessly dancing around the bathroom while singing into her hairbrush when a knock on the bathroom door caused her to squeal. Quickly she stopped the music coming from her phone and went to see who was there.

"Look, I wore clothes this time." Wesley grinned, making light of the last time she'd opened the bathroom door to see him standing on the other side.

"How did you get in here?" Liz's voice came out sounding rude.

"You gave me your key, remember … after telling me to give you an hour to freshen up. Should I leave?" Wesley's face fell.

"No, no … I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to see me in such an exposed state like singing Whitney Houston, but at this point I don't think I have a leg to stand on when it comes to not exposing too much to you."

Wesley chuckled, "Quite right, but if it's any consolation I think when it comes to levels of exposure, I'm right up there with you, my plum. Besides I've already told you your silly quirks are endearing to me much like …"

He made some jerky mime-like movements as if he was trying to build up to a big reveal. Then Wesley pulled a DVD of _Bridget Jones's Diary_ from behind his back, "our favorite female protagonist."

Liz clapped her hands excitedly and took hold of the movie, "You got the collectors edition! This means we can watch with Colin Firth's commentary."

"Yes, although the way DVDs are here this won't work in your player back in the states, so I'm afraid unless you come visit me this movie will be useless to you." He said.

"That's okay. You bought it, so you should keep it." Liz replied while skirting the real issue Wesley was trying to hint at – her coming back to London to see him.

"Well, I suppose then I will also have to keep these discs containing the complete series of _Chums_ and _Doctor Who_." Wesley said as he seemingly pulled the DVDs he'd mentioned out of no where.

Liz's jaw dropped, "Wesley! That must have cost you a fortune. You can't afford to waste money like that when you're out of work!"

Setting the DVDs down on the floor, Wesley waved her concern away, "Not to worry. I brought them from my apartment. I was thinking we could watch some tonight if you wanted, because tomorrow they'll be up for sell on UFace … money issues and all. Unless you would want me to keep them, so the next time you visit we can watch together. You know I would do that for you."

His smile was hopeful yet pitiful to Liz who just wanted to avoid any talk about what was going to happen a week, month, or year from now. She was tired of planning when it came to men. Her plans never panned out and she wasn't going to get the ball rolling on Wesley when it would most likely lead to their end. "Look, let's not think about anything like that tonight. I want this to be nice, without any stress or talk about what might be. Can we focus on the here and now and enjoy each other as is?"

Wesley managed to keep his smile from falling too deeply into a frown and nodded with agreement, "Right, of course. I don't want to waste any of our time together talking about things when I'd rather be doing … things."

Liz thought she saw something similar to bedroom eyes as Wesley looked at her. She wasn't sure if that was even a thing and possibly could have been a term she'd stumbled upon in a sexy _Ghost Hunter's_ fanfiction. At that particular moment though, yes, Wesley was definitely looking her over with eyes that looked like bedrooms … or whatever. Only Liz wasn't ready for what that stare meant.

She maneuvered her body, so that as Wesley's arms were about to take hold and no doubt bring Liz in for a kiss she instead did a limbo of sorts and fell to the floor. "Um, hey, I have an idea. Since they don't air _Chums_ in New York, maybe we can watch the last episode now and tie up all the loose ends for me." She said, refusing to meet his eyes while franticly searching through the DVDs.

"I think the word you are searching for is closure." Wesley stated in a voice that seemed to hold more meaning than the words he said.

He crouched to join Liz and instantly found the DVD she was looking for. "Here you go, last episode on the last disc in here."

"Thanks." Liz said sheepishly, taking the DVD and quickly darting over to the player.

Once everything was set up, she sat down on the edge of the hotel bed and Wesley came to join her. There they watched the episode, sitting side by side with their fingers interlocked, but with no other body parts touching. Liz wasn't entirely sure why she had suddenly become squeamish about doing things with Wesley that could potentially lead to sex. Hadn't she just been motivating herself with diva music? What happened to "I'm every woman"? Now the only demographic of women she related with was every spinster.

Yes, sex could be complicated and weird and give her feelings, but most of the time if the person wasn't a complete tool like Dennis Duffy then it could be nice … great even. She liked Wesley. The weird quirks that made up his whole package no longer gnawed on her nerves. Strangely enough now they turned her on. Still, Liz was anxious and the only thing she could think of as a reason behind her hesitation was the knowledge that most likely things weren't going to end well for them. She had depleted a good chunk of her savings to take this trip and he was now unemployed. A long distance relationship couldn't work and sex would only make the knowledge of that more painful. Oh, why couldn't she just take charge like Whitney did with Kevin or even how Rebecca was now doing with Russ in this final episode of _Chums_?

The feuding couple from _Chums_, who during the sitcom's ten year run constantly broke up only to reconcile a few episodes later, was at an impasse. Rebecca had to choose between either her dream job in another country or Russ. She was even on a plane, leaving for that next stepping stone in her career, when she took off running into the waiting arms of Russ. It was all over the top romantic and not like real life at all.

"Oh god … she's giving up her dream job in Paris to stay with Russ?" Liz shouted grumpily at the TV as they neared the ending of _Chums_.

"I take it you don't believe true love conquers all?" Wesley glanced at her sideways and then turned his attention back to the TV.

"It's so easy for them to wrap this up with a nice little bow on top, but I guarantee you in a week Rebecca will regret her decision and then Russ will cause a fight 'cause he's so needy and she'll hate him for making her stay and blahhh." Liz stuck out her tongue and made an unpleasant face.

Wesley scowled, "Is that how you see me then? Needy?"

"What the what? I thought we were talking about the show."

Releasing Liz's hand, Wesley rose to his feet, "Clearly this is a metaphor for us or can you not see that?" He said in a huff.

Liz stood too and for the first time since Wesley had tried to kiss her she looked him in the eyes, "No, it is not."

"Admit it, Liz. You've been avoiding my advances all week and it's because you are afraid to experience the awesome power of us as one. You don't want to remember that and think about me once you get back to the states."

"Wesley, if I didn't want to be with you I could have told you to go home that night after the ER. I didn't even have to invite you up now." She shot back, completely taken by surprise at this sudden resentment directed at her.

"Fine, I'll just take my leave then …out the door, since that's what you want." Wesley turned around and took a few steps towards the exit. "That is what you want, isn't it?"

Liz couldn't think of an answer to respond with. No, she didn't want Wesley to leave, but neither did she want this noise coming from him. Without a decent response forming on her lips she simply shrugged. Let him interpret that any way he wanted.

"Fine. Have it your way. I hope you have a happy life Elizabeth Lemon." Obviously he'd taken her indifference as rejection and headed towards the door again.

But just as his hand reached for the door knob, Liz felt a need to stop him. This had all gotten out of hand so fast and even if Wesley leaving would solve her problem of having loose ends here in London, she still wasn't willing to close the door on him. Unfortunately, she was no good at handling relationship stuff. _Maybe that's why you're still single_ the mean voice of fate spoke into her ear.

"Shut up." She whispered to her alter-ego.

Then in a moment of sheer panic at the idea that Princess Leia might be right, Liz decided to pull from the only inspiration that was fresh in her head, "Don't make me close one more door. I don't wanna hurt anymore. Stay in my arms if you dare or must I imagine you there? Don't walk away from me. I have nothing, nothing, nothing if I don't have youuuuu!"

Wesley's hand idled on the door knob for a few seconds, clearly taking in the shock of what Liz had done in front of him, "Did you just sing Whitney Houston to me?" He eventually asked as he turned around, amusement covering his face.

"Yes I did and also … you forgot your DVDs." She kicked a few and they scattered across the floor.

Wesley laughed and despite herself Liz did too. Clearly, her out of the blue serenade had diffused the situation.

"I'm sorry I got all worked up." He apologized and came to stand in front of her.

Liz shook her head. "No, I'm sorry I've been so frigid since you, me, and Lady Gaga slept together. You're right. As stupid as it sounds the only way I could show you that I'm brave enough to move onto that next step is to expose myself in a completely self deprecating way, because that's me. I'm weird, kooky and most of the time I screw things up, but I don't want to screw this up, because I think I've found someone just was strange as me and that's what a soul mate is, right?"

Wesley chuckled to himself, "I'm not sure that would be Webster's definition, but if you say so I'll agree to it. Liz you are my soul mate and there is no settling in front of that this time."

He placed his arms around her torso and pulled Liz in for a kiss. She no longer feared the bedroom she saw in his eyes and like every bedroom it contained a bed that the two eventually fell into. Thankfully there was no flaming metal bra this time … just two weird people who understood what it meant to own that term and ultimately enjoy it in another.

The next morning as Liz sat on the airplane waiting for it to take her back to New York, she had no intention of following in Rebecca's fast paced footsteps off the plane and into Wesley's waiting arms. This was real life and not a sitcom. Things couldn't simply be solved with a kiss and fade to black on a supposed happily ever after. Neither though was she willing to give up on Wesley. She stared at the image of her _boyfriend_ as he looked back at her from the new background on her phone. He'd changed it from the ham sandwich it used to be into one of him holding a piece of paper that contained the lyrics Liz had sung to him. Yes, he was weird, but that was ok. She wanted to be with Wesley Snipes … her no longer former _Future Husband_, but now, just maybe, her future _Future Husband_.

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><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: I intentionally made the ending of this fic ambiguous in case I get the urge to write little ficlets for this couple again. I realize with this recent _30 Rock_ season finale that the endgame is going to be Criss and Liz (and baby), so I may need to write more Liz/Wesley to fuel my love for a pairing that ended all too soon. Thanks for reading.


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